


5 Times Root kissed Shaw (and one she didn't)

by JulieVerne



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulieVerne/pseuds/JulieVerne
Summary: 5 Times Root kissed Shaw (and one she didn't).
Relationships: Root | Samantha Groves & Sameen Shaw, Root | Samantha Groves/Sameen Shaw
Comments: 7
Kudos: 108





	1. This sort of thing

1\. This sort of thing

Nothing made Shaw feel alive like a taser shot, especially with a fresh bullet wound in her torso. It made the green flecks in her adversary's eyes stand out, it made her notice how warm the body draped between her knees was. The confidence of the hands unzipping her hoodie, the audacity of her planting herself all over Shaw, elbows on Shaw's thighs like she owned them. Shaw knew she should be thinking of ways to escape, should be focusing on what the woman wanted, or what information Shaw could give away to her, or at the very least trying to figure out who this woman could possibly be. 

Who could kidnap a federal agent - given, they were incredibly stupid - and masquerade as one so effectively that Shaw hadn't noticed anything amiss until the tapping?

Who could taze a former marine, manhandle and restrain her?

Which bought Shaw back to the present. The woman in front of her, with the very hot iron. The very attractive woman in front of her, threatening to torture her. 

"Something they left out of my file - I kind of enjoy this sort of thing," Shaw finally managed to struggle out with some bravado, and the other woman smiled.

"I'm so glad you said that. So do I." And Shaw focused on the dimple that came with the smile, letting her eyes lock out, waiting for the burn.

Shaw had been bluffing - while she didn't mind a bit of pain, could shut down and not give away information, the iron was going to leave a visible mark on her otherwise unblemished breast. 

And dammit, Shaw liked these breasts. And the pair she could feel against her lucky, lucky shins. She would probably like those too, if she had a chance to get to know them, at least.

Then there was a noise outside and suddenly the woman looked away. It had been a hell of a day already, it must have been, because for a moment Shaw was disappointed.

\---

As the woman put the iron down she looked over at Shaw and pouted.

"I really hate to leave you like this, trussed up with all the trimmings. Perhaps we'll finish this later."

With that she leaned in and pressed her lips against Shaw's immobile mouth, and slipped away.

\---

The door opened, and Shaw braced herself for a headshot that never came, an injection that was never injected, and an adversary that became a friend. It wasn't until she was wiping her face clean of dog slobber in the back of an ambulance in a goddamn bodybag that she even remembered the feel of Root's lips on hers. She rose from the dead spitting fire, and had her retribution. But Shaw wasn't an idiot. These guys had something to do with Northern Lights, and they'd kept her alive for a reason. She might be useful to them later, or they might be useful to her. Either way, it wasn't every day she had her life saved and a second chance.

"My ass, we'll finish this later," Shaw grunted to herself as she gunned the ambulance out of the cemetery.


	2. I'll be your passenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second time's the charm

2\. In the car

When Shaw blinked awake she was ziptied to a steering wheel. Root was there. It was kind of hot. It always was with Root.

And when Root pulled a knife Shaw could feel her adrenaline spiking over whatever drug she'd been plied with last night. Could feel her heart rate speeding up. Not because she was scared of Root; Shaw knew she could easily snap her in half. But the knife, wondering what Root planned to do with it...

It was only a matter of seconds before Shaw had control of the situation - even though she never really had control of any situation, where Root was involved. Root didn't even look surprised when Shaw had her pressed against the inside of the passenger door. Shaw didn't intend to listen to anything Root said but then...

Root knew.

Root knew, somehow. That night, her father. The first responders. Down to the Oilers and the Eagles.

Root knew who Shaw was, as sure as if she'd been watching her instead of The Machine. And the goddamn woman had a goddamn point.

Shaw could taste the drugs in her mouth still, mingling with Root's irritatingly minty fresh breath whenever she breathed out, the light catching her eyes. The warmth of the woman venting out through the collar of her jacket, delicate collarbone under Shaw's knuckles. So fragile. It would just take a moment to snap.

"You better hope I don't remember," Shaw growled. Root was so irritating, so closed-mouthed about their mission, so clean and fresh-smelling while Shaw was still in the clothes she'd crashed out in last night, hadn't showered, could feel her own gritty skin and smell her own drug-induced sweat. Shaw didn't take kindly to being dragged out of bed, even less when it was the literal manhandling Root must have subjected her to last night. Shaw could feel a bruise starting on her ass. Root's eyes looked down for a moment, at Shaw's lips and Shaw swallowed suddenly, made sure her eyes didn't slip away from Root's, kept up the threatening gaze that had made men twice her size quake at her wrath. Root looked back up and smiled. 

With Shaw still holding a knife to her throat, Root leaned in just enough to kiss Shaw. Soft lips, despite the hard words. Despite the fact that Shaw was holding the knife, she knew who was in control.

"I hope you do," Root said, still close enough that Shaw accidentally inhaled the words along with Root's breath. It was a threat and a promise. Shaw froze up for a second, not sure how to follow up on that. Not sure whether to acknowledge that this woman had kissed her twice and she hadn't objected once. Not sure how to feel about the soft cushioning under her right forearm. Root was looking at her, still with that hard expression on her face, studying the freckles dotted across Shaw's nose that she hadn't noticed the first time she'd met her. 

When Root pulled away. just a little, Shaw could see the thin red line where the knife had been pressed against her, a drop of blood welling where the point of the knife had broken skin. Where Root had pressed herself so far forward that she'd cut herself. Shaw pulled away and swallowed, shoving the knife in the pocket of her door before kicking the car into gear and spinning tyres out of the parking spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had phsyio the day after I wrote the last chapter and she said 'shin' to me for the first time ever and I said 'lucky lucky shins' and laughed so hard I almost fell over.
> 
> If you like it, leave a comment please. It's better motivation than my current 'ugh the laptop is right there, why don't you write something' seems to be.


	3. Under the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating prayers from this old book I found

3\. In the sewer

Shaw could feel Root watching her burn through steel with spaghetti and Shaw knew she looked good doing it. Nothing hotter than a girl in sunglasses playing with fire. And while Shaw didn't particularly like Root, they'd made a truce, and the admiring gaze Shaw could feel landing on her didn't feel gross, didn't feel objectifying. It was just frank admiration for Shaw's strength and physique, and Shaw had worked hard on both of those and they did deserve that admiration. 

When Shaw turned her head, Root was looking away, and Shaw couldn't quantify the disappointment she felt. She just turned back to the grate. Her tongue wet her lips, perhaps in anticipation. Perhaps because the lance was drying out her face. Perhaps because the sight of Root leaning against the wall like that was enticing.

Shaw held the makeshift torch clumsily as she finished, shook her head to knock the sunglasses lower in the gloom of the sewer. Root stepped forward, and as comfortably as she slid the sunglasses onto Shaw's face, she took them off. She stayed close, and Shaw was aware again of Root's mouth and the proximity of it to her own. Root took the torch and extinguished it, then reached for one of Shaw's hands with her spare hand. 

Root led Shaw through the sewers, eventually hiding the torch in one of the muddy sidesteps they took. They trudged along in the near darkness, occasional lights from grates above, Shaw's hand limply lying in Root's. 

Eventually they came to some steps and Shaw stumbled in the dim light, falling into Root, whose grip tightened on Shaw's hand as she turned. Shaw was a step below and her face landed somewhere soft. Root stepped down onto the same step as Shaw and tilted Shaw's face up, mouth catching Shaw's quickly and deliberately even in the dark. The hand on Shaw's chin slipped to her shoulder, then her chest, then down to her waist and Shaw was breathless when Root finally pulled away. 

"We're running out of time," Root said abruptly as she pulled away, not acknowledging what had just happened between them. And Shaw felt smug for being too irresistible to adhere to whatever bizarre schedule they were trying to keep.

It took several tugs on Shaw's hand to get her to follow her Root up the stairs. When Shaw stepped blinking into daylight, her hand was already empty.

But then again, Shaw'd never stumbled in her life.  
Not by accident anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/summary from Great Lake Swimmers "Moving Pictures, Silent Films".


	4. In the hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long day and a longer night

4\. In the hotel room

Shaw dragged the tazed man into one of the bedrooms, tied him up. Found the prisoner, and Root had a few words with her before setting her on her way, a neatly folded stash of money in her pocket. 

"Well, looks like we have all night," Root said. Shaw looked over at the occupied bedroom. "Don't worry, he doesn't have to watch." The smirk on Root's face was expectant.

"Root..." Shaw started, but trailed off. Root had let her fight the agent, work off some steam before dropping him with that goddamn tazer she still remembered. Still held a grudge over. Two, to be precise. But it hadn't taken the edge off; not really. 

Root propped herself up on the table again, studied her nails. "I hope you bought a book," she said causally, and Shaw deflated. She'd been keyed up to fight again, and if it led to something else then she wouldn't have been disappointed.

"I'm going to shower," Shaw said finally, still feeling the grit of the sewer on her body. Root raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. 

The hot water in the hotel was better than the hot water in the place she was renting. With a whole night ahead of them, there was no rush to get out any time soon, and if Root was waiting for a shower then she could definitely keep waiting. Wrapped in a towel Shaw eyed her clothes, not relishing another night in them but not quite game enough to walk out in a towel. She shrugged them back on and walked out into the bare room. Even a TV would have eased some of the tension Shaw could feel in the air. Root was thumbing through a paperback detective novel, still perched on the table even though there were perfectly good chairs. It put her at the kind of height that Shaw could just walk up to her, nudge her knees open and step into her, pull Root against herself and slam her against a wall somewhere.

Shaw shook her head, and Root looked up, curious at the flush on Shaw's face.

"I'm going to bed," Shaw said. "Something about being drugged really tires me out." Root nodded. 

"I'll be there soon," she said and Shaw spun around.

"Well, do you want me to sleep with a federal agent?" Root asked coyly, and Shaw rolled her eyes.

"Someone should watch him." Shaw said nervously. Nervous because of a federal agent, not because Root was going to... what, slip into bed beside her? Rest her head on the pillow next to her and want to be held? Walk in the bedroom naked and climb on top of Shaw? Shaw swallowed thickly, shook her head. "He's your prisoner."

"Technically you got more sleep than me," Root said, and Shaw wanted so badly to wipe that smirk off of Root's face. "But you've been very helpful, and you have a point. I'll wake you at 2 and we can switch. Pickup is at 6."

The bed was more comfortable than it had any right to be, and Shaw slipped quickly into sleep. 

Shaw awakened, aware of the movement of the air in the room as the door opened. She lay still, wondering what Root was doing, ready to defend herself if necessary. This uneasy truce sat poorly with her. She was getting used to the common good, but Root took advantage.

Root took advantage of Shaw's perceived sleep. She crouched next to the bed and let her fingertips rest on Shaw's cheek, then let them run over Shaw's lips. Root leaned in, pressed her mouth softly against Shaw's lips. Minty fresh. Damn woman must have planned it. Shaw's arm shot out and caught Root as she pulled away. Root broke the hold easily, slipping out of Shaw's reach. Shaw sat up, and Root shrugged off her jacket and the objections Shaw had been about to raise about Root's ideas of personal space slipped away with the leather. Shaw looked away and swallowed, just in case Root was going to disrobe further, but Root just slid into the space Shaw had left in the bed. Shaw paused, ready to address the issue, and Root turned on her side toward Shaw, rested a soft hand on her lower back.

"Your turn to watch the prisoner, although I'd much rather you stay here with me for the rest of the night. However, that wouldn't be conducive to the sleep I will need for tomorrow, so perhaps it's for the best." Root's hand was gently wandering along Shaw's spine, so Shaw stood up, away from the touch.

Shaw considered the bundle of Root in the bed a moment, thought how easy it would be to crawl back into the bed. How easy it would be to... Instead she growled and headed over to the other bedroom, hearing Root laugh behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this night must have been done before but I haven't read anything in this fandom and I have only seen the series once several years ago so...  
> I liked this one so much I may spin it off.


	5. Kinda hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two guns at once should be kinda lame, but somehow Root makes it hot.

5\. That's kinda hot

"Can I have a second one, please?" Root asked sweetly, and Shaw rolled her eyes.

"Two guns at once? That's kinda lame."

Shaw swallowed her words almost immediately watching Root in action. She was like a coiled spring, something that looked small and undestructive but once released there was no turning back. The precision on her left hand, Shaw could tell, was a little less but she still could have passed basic training. Something in her head must have made her able to respond to where the machine was telling her to aim, because Shaw had tried this trick, once or twice, and she hadn't fared anywhere near as well. Something about the way Root accurately took out kneecaps - John's trick, granted - was adorable. 

Then Shaw pulled up, looked at the carnage. Say anything but adorable, she urged herself.

"OK, that was kinda hot." Shaw said instead, and Root just threw her a smug grin.

"You should head up, we're running out of time," Root said, but her hand drifted in front of Shaw to slow her down.

Fusco had already turned back to Harold and they were already on their way, so Root switched both guns to one hand and caught Shaw before she could turn and join the others.

"Could say the same for you," Root said breathily, and this time Shaw was ready for the kiss that Root had coming for her. Root's mouth was harder and more demanding than usual, and Shaw knew that the firefight had fired up Root as well. Shaw noted that Root tasted like almonds; bitter yet not unpleasant; it was better than toothpaste. Shaw tucked her gun away, then kicked the safety on both of Root's guns. Shaw kissed back as she took both of Root's guns and stashed them, then let her hands push Root against a wall. Root's hands willingly gave away the guns in favour of grabbing Shaw by the hips to pull her tight against her own body. Root smelled like gunpowder and Shaw was damned if that wasn't doing it for her.

"You have to help Reese," Root breathed when she finally pulled away, skull knocking against brick as Shaw followed her movement, stopping shy of kissing Root. Shaw could feel Root's breath against her face, feel Root's hands on her hips. When Shaw pulled away slightly, Root pulled her closer. Shaw eyed her another moment, leaned in a fraction and saw how Root's mouth dropped open in anticipation to welcome her, then Shaw turned and stalked away in the direction of the dim voices of Fusco and Finch.

"I need those guns back, sweetie," Root called after Shaw's retreating back before pushing herself away from the wall to saunter after her, retrieve the guns, watch the exit and save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lose my voice at least once a year so I'm learning sign language so when I go walking in my neighbourhood I'm throwing down gang signs singing along to my music. Also had to do a controlled slide to get out of the hills and my typing arm is complaining.  
> One to go, I think.


	6. That one time Root didn't kiss Shaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one time Root didn't kiss Shaw

Shaw had been eaten by curiosity over the conversation on the balcony. When their number left with Reese, Shaw approached Root, and seeing that knowing smirk on Root's face made her rougher than she had intended to be when she tugged the shirt away from Root's skin, peered inside at the bandage -and only the bandage, she told herself. 

"Keep 'em dry. Change the dressings every 72 hours," Shaw informed Root. Wounds looked neat, no obvious ooze seeping through. Shaw lifted Root's hair to check her neck, Root eyeing her hungrily, then checked the one just below her collarbone again, just for something to do. Just to stay in Root's personal space a few moments longer.

"I love it when you play doctor," Root said breathily, too quiet for Finch to hear, words intended for Shaw alone. Shaw looked up at her quickly, annoyed, and Root lifted an eyebrow, smirked with a mouth that Shaw could remember pressed against her own. Shaw scoffed, but she grabbed Root's biceps and pressed her mouth against Root's, some of the desperation of the firefight still lingering in both of their mouths as Shaw pressed herself closer. Root's hand rose slowly to Shaw's face, cupped her cheek softly - too softly, Root was too soft, she was too pliant, she was too.. girly, Shaw thought, right as Root's teeth dug into her bottom lip, and Shaw had to bite back a moan. Root was none of those things - she might have a softness, but it was guile, and it was all for Shaw. Shaw pulled away and didn't glance over at where Harold had frozen in place and was now quickly looking away. Shaw looked at the bandage on Root's neck again, then caught at Root's cheek with her hand, pressing a firm kiss on Root's mouth, pressing her forehead briefly against Root's before storming out of the room.

Root and Finch stared at each other, then at the door when it opened again a moment later.

"If you're coming over, leave the taser at home," Shaw called into the apartment, and then she was gone again. Root raised her hand to her mouth, looked at Harry, shrugged and trotted off after Shaw. It was a pity; she liked the taser, but she liked even more the way Shaw had finally come around.

"Don't wait up for me, Harry," she called as she sauntered out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing these and was considering doing a short kiss interlude for a few more episodes but I got sick again even though I wear a mask and disinfect everything and I'm very tired.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: I've planned most of this one out and should be able to complete it while I work on the other 2 I've left hanging.


End file.
